The Second Chance
by LilFlyergirl
Summary: Hazel gets a second chance with Mr. Waters.


The Second Chance

A/N: I am going to be a sobbing wreck in the movie theater. Damn you, John Green!

I woke up with a start, and grief ripped through my body so hard that I began shaking uncontrollably. The pain was incredible. It felt like every piece of my heart, my soul had been blasted apart and scattered into so many pieces that I'd never be able to find them all.

And I didn't want to.

I'd never be the same again after him, I knew that.

But what would I give to feel his arms around me one last time? What would I do to feel his lips against mine? To hear his voice? See his smile?

I'd give every ounce of oxygen my stupid lungs could tolerate.

I sat up with a small effort, resting my back against the headboard, and brought my knees up to my chest, trying to in vain to put part of me back together.

Death was the final word. It had the final say. Final, final, final.

But dammit, this was so unfair. I felt my hands ball into fists and grip the sheets.

How could he die and leave me here?

How could I go on without him?

I needed to hear his voice. I needed some part of him.

My hands fumbled on my bedside table for my phone, and I scrolled down to his number, and there, smiling up at me was his handsome face from the little contact photo. He was dressed in his suit, and it was the picture I had taken of him at Oranjee. He was young and healthy and vibrant, and full of life, and oh, I loved him.

I loved his quick wit, the way he viewed the world, the way he kissed me. I needed to hear his voice, though I knew if I dialed his number, it would ring a few times and go to voicemail, a chipper Gus telling me to leave a message that he would never hear.

I wiped away the tears that began to leak out of my eyes, trying to hold myself together, trying not to irrupt again into those horrible sobs that racked my whole body and made it harder to breathe.

I took a deep breath and dialed anyway.

The phone rang annoyingly in my ear as I waited for the message to begin.

But, instead of the phone going into voicemail, I was surprised when the line was answered, and a sleepy voice asked, "Hazel Grace?"

The phone slipped from my hand and bounced onto my bed. Gus had answered.

Gus had answered!

But how could this be? I felt my heart rate begin to increase, felt the pressure from the air in my nose blowing straight through to my brain.

It was Gus. It was his voice.

It was him. I was sure of it.

I scrambled forward and grabbed the phone, placing it back against my ear. Apparently Gus had been talking, asking if I was alright.

"So help me, Hazel Grace, if you don't answer me, I am driving over there..."

"I'm here, I'm here!" I squeaked.

He let out a low whistle, "You had me worried. Here it is three in the morning, and you call, and you don't answer, so I don't know if you can't answer or..."

"You're alive." I whisper, and I can't stop the giddyness from seeping into my voice. "You're alive!"

"Yes?" He questions, and the yawns.

"I need to see you." I say, "Now."

He pauses before answering, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Please. I just need to see you. I'll drive over there."

"I'll be outside." He says. There's a pause, and before I hang up the phone, I hear his voice ask, "Is this a booty call?"

I laugh into the receiver, and hang up, tears of joy still streaming down my face.

I pull up to his house, and my heart flutters when I saw him there, silhouetted in the darkness on his front steps, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He smiles when he sees me, and I walk as fast as I can... not running, but walking at a brisk pace, the wheels on my cart sounding like gunshots in the stillness-I walk right up to him, and I through my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. He took a step back from the force of my body crushing against him, and I felt his arms tighten around my waist.

Only then, did I begin to sob.

And these are the horrible gut wrenching, body shuddering sobs that I can't control. He is silent a moment, letting me get it out, and after awhile, he is soothing me, one hand rubbing my back, another in my hair. After what seems like forever, I begin to quiet from exhaustion and not being able breathe, and he speaks.

"Shhh, hey, it's alright, Hazel Grace."

"No... it's not." I hiccup.

"What happened? Tell me about it." He says gently, taking my hand and walking over to the steps. I take a seat, position my cart against my knees.

"I had a..." I pause, looking into his beautiful eyes that are so filled with concern. He is looking down at me with those eyes and that voice, and I feel tears well in my eyes again. This is _my_ Gus. My beautiful, caring, charismatic angel. Sometimes I think he was sent here just for me, even though... well, even though my body isn't in its best condition, my life could be.

Our life is when we're together.

And even though I'm sick, he loves me anyway. Even though he was dying, I couldn't stop loving him. If it hadn't been a dream, and he had died, I would go on loving him. It was the way love worked, it didn't make sense. Love was forever, and it outlasted life.

But, I _did_ have a dream. Just a nightmare, and I realize now, staring at him, the moonlight glinting off of his long eyelashes, the warmth of his hand in mine, how silly it would sound to a normal human ear.

But nothing is normal or trivial, not when your days are numbered.

"I had a nightmare." I say quickly, "And Gus, it was so real. I had a nightmare where you got sick again, and you died, and left me and..."

"Hey," He said softly, cutting me off. "It did get hairy there for awhile, didn't it? But look..." He pounded his chest, "Still the sexy one legged boy you love."

I let a small laugh escape me that was also part sob, and he drew me into his arms again.

"I'm sorry I scared you." He said. "But I'm alright."

My mind was a blur, and as he held me, my clouded brain so real from the nightmare started to clear. Gus had been on death's door. He had Isaac and I write eulogies for him. He was so pale and weak. And then, he had gotten his own miracle.

In a last ditch attempt to save his life, one rogue doctor upped the dosage on an experimental drug- and it had begun to work. The tumors had begun to shrink.

He wasn't out of the woods yet, but his prognosis was good. He would be okay.

I pulled his face to mine, giddy with relief, and he kissed me there in the moonlight. I drew my arms up and around his neck. I loved the smell of him. The feel of him. The way he tasted.

"I love you so much." I said.

"I bet you say that to all the boys at three in the morning." He said playfully.

I laughed, and pulled away from him, but he smiled, and drew me back into his arms. I squealed with delight. "Shh," He said with a laugh, looking around, and making sure no lights had come on in his neighbors' houses. "I love you too." He says with a grin.

A devious thought crept into my mind then, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "Let's go to your room," I say with a smile.

He laughed, "So this _is_ a booty call."

I giggled and took his hand.

The first rays of morning light knocked against my closed eyelids. I blinked warily, my face on something warm, the steady throb of a heartbeat beneath my ear. I snuggled tighter against Gus's bare chest, and peeked one eye up at him.

He was snoring peacefully, one arm across my back, the other flung across his bed. I squinted at the clock on his table.

Crap.

6:05.

I had to get up and get back to the house before 7:00, when my dad would wake. He always checked in on me in the morning before he left for work and I got up for class, so seeing his daughter's bed empty on a Thursday morning wouldn't be such a great thing.

I carefully got up off of him, resting his arm that was on my back across his chest, and reached down for my shirt.

He stirred, and looked up at me. "Leaving so soon?" He asked, his eyes not quite open.

"I have to get back home before my dad wakes up," I said, pulling on my shoes.

"Your money for last night is in the top dresser drawer," He joked, snuggling into his pillows.

I laughed, leaned over him, and kissed him lightly. "I'll see you later."

He smiled, and crushed me against him again. "I'll walk you out." He let me go, and got up, fixing his leg, and then headed to the stairs.

I admired the view for a moment, and then said, "Uh, Gus? You might want to put on pants."

"Right you are, Hazel Grace." He said, and walked back over to his dresser.

We crept quietly up the stairs once he was clothed, and lingered by my mom's car. I was snuggled into his arms, and just didn't want to let him go.

But time, that unfavoring asshole crept closer to seven.

I pulled away from him, and said sadly, "I have to go."

"When can I see you again?" He asked.

"Tonight," I said with a smile.

"Tomorrow and the next night and the one after that?" He asked, and kissed me.

I beamed, "Okay."

"Okay," He replied with a smile.

I kissed him one last time, grabbed my tank and slid behind the wheel.

"Until tonight," He said.

"I love you." I said.

He gave me a salute as I drove off, and I watched him in my rear view mirror until I rounded the corner. Augustus Waters was a part of me. The good part. My body may be racked with cancer, but he was the part that made me whole. And with him, I knew I'd be okay.


End file.
